The sun was past its highest point as Tarek led them further from the clearing where they’d gathered celandine. The quiet of the swamp felt thicker now, the air damp and warm, as if even the breeze had decided to abandon them. Agan’s satchel was full, and the weight of the roots was starting to dig into his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving. He wasn’t about to be the one to ask for a break.

“Bet Karu’s regretting his choice of boots,” Garik muttered as they trudged through another patch of muck, his voice low enough for only Agan to hear.

Agan smirked, glancing over at Karu, who was indeed wincing with every step. The swamp had claimed his left boot as its own, and his foot made a sickening squelch with every step.

Karu shot them both a glare. “Laugh all you want. At least I don’t look like I’ve got a stick up my—”

Tarek turned sharply, silencing him with a single look. Karu swallowed the rest of his words, though he mouthed something colorful behind Tarek’s back. Agan had to stifle a laugh, quickly turning his attention forward as they came to another twist in the path.

Then, without warning, Tarek stopped. Agan caught a faint movement out of the corner of his eye—a figure stepping out from the shadows of a tree. This time, it wasn’t just one Raksha warrior; there were three.

The lead warrior was a woman, tall and wiry, her face streaked with red and green paint in a design that reminded Agan of a serpent’s coils. She wore a dark brown cloak, draped loosely over leather armor that looked more decorative than protective. Twin knives hung from her belt, their handles carved with what looked like teeth. Her eyes were sharp, a fierce golden color that caught the faint light filtering through the trees.

She didn’t look amused to see them.

Tarek raised a hand in greeting, but she didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she spoke in a language Agan couldn’t understand, her tone clipped. Tarek answered in the same language, his voice calm but firm.

Aska, standing beside Agan, leaned in to whisper, “That’s Rakshan. They don’t use it with outsiders much. Usually only if they’re trying to intimidate.”

“Good to know it’s working,” Agan muttered, watching the woman’s gaze sweep over them.

After a tense exchange, Tarek turned back to the group, his expression unreadable. “We’ve been given an escort through the rest of Raksha territory. Don’t stray from the path, and don’t speak unless spoken to.”

Karu raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath, “Feels more like they’re making sure we actually leave.”

The woman gave Karu a hard look, clearly catching the gist of his words. She motioned for them to follow, turning sharply and walking ahead, her two companions flanking the group from behind. Agan stole a quick glance at them—one was young, maybe only a few years older than him, with a band of dark feathers tied into his hair, while the other was broad-shouldered and looked like he could wrestle a drake if he had to.

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The young warrior with the feathers seemed to catch Agan’s glance, and his lips twitched in what might have been a smirk—or a snarl; it was hard to tell.

“Friendly bunch,” Garik muttered under his breath.

“They’re just making sure we don’t touch anything sacred, probably,” Aska replied. “The Raksha have their customs. And trespassers aren’t usually welcome here.”

As they walked, the Raksha warriors kept their pace brisk, the path winding deeper into the swamp, where the trees grew taller and the air thicker. Vines dangled from above, and here and there, Agan could see carved wooden charms hanging from the branches, some shaped like animals, others like human faces twisted in expressions of rage or grief.

The Raksha woman caught him looking at one of the charms and raised an eyebrow. “You find our markers strange, swamp-dweller?”

Her voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it. Agan straightened, refusing to let her see any hesitation. “Not strange. Just different.”

She tilted her head, a glint of amusement—or maybe approval—in her golden eyes. “Good answer. And you’re right. Different lands, different spirits. Ours are… less forgiving than yours, I’d wager.”

“Seems like everything in Raksha territory is less forgiving,” Karu muttered, probably louder than he intended.

The young Raksha warrior with the feathered hair gave Karu a glare that could have curdled milk. “Watch your mouth, outsider, or the swamp will close it for you.”

Karu’s eyes widened, and he went silent, his expression shifting to something that almost looked like respect. The Raksha warrior gave a curt nod, satisfied, and turned his attention back to the path.

Garik smirked. “Guess that’s one way to shut Karu up.”

As they continued, Agan kept his eyes forward, occasionally glancing at the Raksha warriors. Their movements were fluid, each step deliberate and precise, as if they’d walked these paths a thousand times. They seemed at ease here, in a way that reminded him of Tarek when he moved through Murkrest.

After what felt like an eternity of silent marching, they finally reached a point where the Raksha woman stopped and gestured to a narrow, muddy path leading away from their land.

“This is where your journey ends, swamp-dwellers,” she said, her tone neutral. “Continue that way, and you’ll be back in safe territory.”

Agan noticed the way she emphasized safe, as if their territory held dangers they couldn’t even begin to imagine. He nodded, grateful they were leaving without any real trouble.

“Thank you,” Tarek said, bowing his head slightly. “Your guidance is appreciated.”

The Raksha woman regarded him with a faint smirk. “Just remember, outsider. You enter Raksha lands again without invitation, you may not find us so welcoming.” Her eyes flicked to Agan, lingering just a bit longer than necessary before she turned and disappeared into the trees, her companions close behind.

As soon as they were out of sight, Karu let out a breath. “Well, that was fun. Remind me never to make jokes around a Raksha again.”

“Oh, they’d probably find you hilarious,” Aska replied dryly. “Right before they fed you to a drake.”

Garik laughed, giving Karu a playful nudge. “You’re lucky they didn’t take you up on that.”

Karu huffed, though he couldn’t hide the relief in his expression. “Still better than facing that swamp drake again. Speaking of which, let’s get back before it decides it’s still hungry.”

They exchanged quick nods and set off, their steps quicker now that they were out of Raksha territory.